I’m a writer, but no poet. Not even close. There’s very little poetry that I enjoy.
I have, however, found a couple of poets along the way who I do enjoy. One is Maya Angelou, of course. What woman can’t relate to Maya’s beautiful poetry and prose?
“I’m fat as butter and sweet as cake,
men start to tremble every time I shake.”
Excerpt from “Seven Women’s Blessed Assurance”
My favorite poem though, is by Langston Hughes. I found it early in life and it’s followed me everywhere, haunting me with visions, entering my thoughts at quiet moments, invading my dreams.
It’s a complex poem, though short. I love to read it and think about it from every aspect. To me, it’s the perfect, most beautifully crafted arrangement of words ever written. Instead of a picture that speaks a thousand words, it’s a few words that speak a thousand pictures. It relives the people of my life.
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore-
and then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
However, I don’t want to continue visualizing my world in Mr. Hughes’s terms. I’m over being haunted by his words. I want to turn them on their head. Put them in reverse. I want my woman’s voice instead. I want a new ending. One that dreams like I do.
Like I said, I’m not a poet. And my words will never come even close to the complexity and beauty of arrangement that Langston Hughes’s words did but, I’ve done my best and that’s all that I require of myself. Here it is, I hope that you enjoy it too.
What happens to a dream renewed?
Does it rise up
like a flower to the sun?
Or spring forth in release-
Does it grow with a passionate heat?
Or shake, twirl, & dance
with joyful feet?
Maybe it just walks
the tear-stained road,
and shares the load.
Remona Stormborn, July 2015
Reprinting not allowed without permission.